Dancing at the Doors of Death
by Scintillating Golden Leaves
Summary: In which we play Mafia, and it's an every-man-for-themselves situation. ::AU::


**Title: **Dancing at the Doors of Death  
><strong>Summary:<strong> In which we play Mafia, and it's an every-man-for-themselves situation.  
><strong>Character (s):<strong> All the teams, excluding Irina, including FIske  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>Genre: <strong>Horror/Humor- AU  
><strong>Fandom:<strong> 39 Clues

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter One: Impenetrable Room<span>**

My mornings do not usually start out like this. And what do I mean by usually?

Well.

Usually, I get out of bed at around 6:30 on a school day or 8:00, on a weekend. Usually, Dan is still asleep. Usually, I drag myself to our comely washroom, take a long, hot and reposing shower and then have breakfast with Fiske and Nellie who sit across the table. Usually, Dan is not screaming at me to _get your fat butt out of bed and move it _at four in the morning, and usually, Fiske and Nellie are not busy throwing pancakes at Medusa-like things.

_Usually._

So I sit up and blink, pushing Dan away. I only stare at the scene for a second before I am screaming at the top of my lungs.

Dan -being the great little brother he is- takes this opportunity to yank me out off bed and dump me onto the floor in a heap. I flail a bit, attempting to regain my balance but Dan pays no attention. Instead, he throws a t-shirt and a pair of jeans at me. Only then do I vaguely realize that I'm still in my pajamas and that my family members don't exactly expect just walk out the door in these clothes.

But to me, trying to stay alive is much more important than dressing decently.

So I whip the clothes behind me, onto my bed. I stand up and start looking around for something to throw at the snake-heads. I don't think Nellie or Fiske or even Dan realizes, but the pancakes they were repeatedly flinging did nothing but burn them. Good thing they were freshly cooked.

I spot Dan waving two samurai swords wildly around and I almost mentally groan. I didn't even want to know what he hoped to achieve by doing that. Instead, I motion for him to pass me one of the swords and he throws it at me.

I think I look pretty intimidating, with my neat parries and fierce swipes, but I get the feeling that they are laughing at me.

Laughing.

At me.

You do not know how insulted I am. I can't be _that _bad.

Then I happen to glance down at my pajama bottoms and only feel embarrassment. I can't blame them. A fourteen-year-old girl with a sword that looks like one from a Halloween costume? And to top it off, she's wearing _Nyan Cat _pajamas! Yeah, real scary.

I _knew _I should have worn my Darth Vader ones last night.

I am jolted back to reality when one of them pokes a hole at the foot of my pants, where the largest Nyan cat is, tearing it out. And I know it wasn't an accident because their knife barely grazed my leg. They had intentionally attacked my defenceless Nyan Cat.

It.

Did.

Not.

Just.

Do.

That.

…

…

_Attack!_

I don't remember much of what happened after that, not up to the point where the leader of these freaks shows up and kidnaps us all.

Which, by the way, is not a pleasant experience.

* * *

><p>I hate that we are stuck in a room with all our enemies. I hate that I was stupid enough not to grab some sort of change of clothes. I hate that there is a big screen with a girl wearing a smug smile on it right in front of me.<p>

I hate what she is saying.

"So you want to get out of here, right?"

I feel like telling her to stop being so cliché and dramatic and to get to the point. I don't, but she can read it on my face.

"Then play a little game with me, everyone." I want to puke at her _sweet, innocent _voice. Note the heavy sarcasm. "It's called Mafia."

Somebody throws a Pikachu pillow at the screen and don't even ask me how they managed to get a hold of that. I swivel around to try to see who it is so I can congratulate them, enemy or not.

"Now, now, Holt," the voice coos. "Have patience. The rules are simple. There are two teams, the Mafia and the Villagers. The Villagers will have to find out who the Mafia are. On alternating days, either the Mafia will kill someone, or the Villagers will accuse someone and hang them. And no, you cannot choose to skip a day. You choose, or you will _all_be finished. And once you receive your role, you may not share it will anyone else. If you do... well, let's just say that the one who has this knowledge will be, ah, severely punished." She smiles brightly at us. "Once the Villagers have eliminated all of the Mafia, or vice versa, they will win the game. Is that clear?"

Dead silence.

Is she for real? I mean, yeah, we all hate each other, but we aren't so enthusiastic about killing. Nobody could be sadistic enough to compress over ten people in a room and force them into a mass murdering spree.

Right?

I search her face, hoping for some signs of _gotcha! You're all on camera! _Her hair droops from all angles and frames her long face but the feed the screen emits is so bad, I can't tell what color it is. I take in that she does her eyebrows, and quite often too, from the looks of it.

And then Natalie Kabra squeaks out something brilliant. "What about a doctor? And a cop?"

Instantly, the room's atmosphere transforms from tense to relief. A doctor could save the life of the one about to be killed and give us all a chance to prolong our lives.

The girl scowls. "Fine. But only because I think it will make it more interesting."

And we all nod and agree with her. Because once you are taken captive by some demented girl who makes people kill each other for the fun of it, you can only appease your kidnapper in hopes of surviving.

"The cop will come to me every other day and ask me about a person's status. I'll let them know." Evil Miss Medusa waves her hand in the direction of one door. "Bathroom. The one next to it contains supplies."

Everyone excluding Dan, Natalie, Ian and Sinead makes a mad dash towards the first indicated door.

Well.

That explains a lot about our current roommates' bladder control.

* * *

><p>I think it is safe to say that we are all terrified out of our wits. I glanced around the table we all sit at. Alistair has a calmly accepting but grave look on his face. The Holts are pounding on the table across from the rest of us. We all know better than to get in the way of Eisenhower Holt when he is enraged. The Starlings are conversing quietly about battle strategies and escape routes. And the Kabras, the most surprising of all- they do not look the least bit concerned about their clothes.<p>

If that doesn't express how serious this situation is, I don't know what will.

The times we thought we were going to die in the clue hunt is nothing compared to this. This- this is mass murder! We are like tigers put together in a den, to fight each other for our lives. For this girl's _amusement_.

I am not sure if she is mentally stable.

"We've got to get out of here," Dan says to me. For the first time since we were brought here, I look at him. He is pale and his hands are fiddling with a pen he brought with him.

_Click. Click. Click._

"If you have any ideas, be my guest," I say shakily. "We're trapped in a room with ruthless Cahills who, by the way, hate us."

"They know we're Madrigals," Dan says quietly. "They'll be after us first."

I shiver but manage nod. "I know."

"Maybe not the Holts?" suggests Nellie from beside Dan. "Hamilton is friends with you guys."

Fiske agrees. "Yes, it is likely."

"Not his family," Dan shakes his head. "He might vouch for us, but forget about the rest of them."

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "I don't know. But we should start looking for an escape route."

"Excuse me!" called a masculine voice before I could leave. "If I could get everybody's attention, that would be wonderful."

Eisenhower growls. "You put you in charge of anything?"

"I did, actually," the screen behind me speaks and I turn around, startled. "Of the supplies. You're at his mercy for that."

There is an eruption of protests and I find myself joining them.

"Are you nuts?" I hear my shrill voice above the rest. "He'll keep everything for himself and starve the rest of us!"

Eyes immediately shoot glares at me and I sit down, eyes fixed on my ratty shoelaces and my cheeks burning.

"I'm glad I have your support, Madrigal," Ian says coldly.

I resist the impulse to bite my lips. "Right," I reply, trying to make my voice seem scathing. "Of course a Lucian would."

Madison speaks up, shooting Ian a glare that certainly didn't ensure his future. "Look, we may not like Madrigals, but what that girl said is right. He _will _starve us."

The girl on the screen shrugs. "It's not my problem," and she flickers out.

Everyone in the room looks at each other and we all make a silent agreement: no Kabra is going to tell us what to do, demented girl or not.

Everyone but the Madrigals and Sinead goes to check out the storage room. They are squabbling a little, but it is only half-hearted. I guess it's because of the current situation- they feel like they have to make as many friends as possible. Anyone can be voted out at any moment.

That is the worst part. Knowing that you are not likely to survive, that you are pretty much just awaiting your death. Knowing that it will be your fault if others die.

I shake my head to clear it because there is really no point in contemplating. I stand up and start running my hands on a wall. Dan, Nellie and Fiske follow my example on the other four walls.

Sinead scoffs at what we are doing. "You think we haven't tried that? The walls are completely sealed shut with titanium."

"Then where are we getting our oxygen?" I ask quietly.

Immediately, five pair of eyes shoot up, searching for an opening of some sort. Scanning the room, I don't see anything that sticks out. It is awhile before anybody speaks again, and the voice is one no one expects to hear.

"It's over there."

We all turn to the newcomer. It is Ned. He is pointing at the corner of the room and I cannot believe I missed that though in my defense, it is painted a dull shade of grey like everything else is.

Sinead dashes towards and it reminds me slightly of the way the seven teams behaved during the hunt. I am ashamed to admit that I was one of them at a certain point.

Dan doesn't bother following the rest of us. "That girl's not stupid. It's probably sealed with something."

"Stop trying to discourage them," I whisper in low tones. "They might believe we want them dead and vote us off. We're already at a disadvantage, being Madrigals"

Dan shrugs. "I only speak the truth. What do you want me to do, stand back and give them false hopes?"

"Humor them," I hiss fiercely. "Do whatever it takes to live."

He gives me a weird look. _What's up with you?_

I honestly don't know. It might be the life-death situation we are in and the almost 100% guarantee we have of dying. On top of that, people who despise us are our judges. But you know, Dan, I could be wrong. It might not be the case at all.

Yeah, okay.

Huffing, I drag a chair from the conference table to Sinead and Ned.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Features a darker Amy and Dan. Also, let's pretend _Into the __Gauntlet_ never happened and that Madrigals are still feared/hated. Actually, this is AU, so there are a lot of changes. For example, Amy and Ian's "thing" in Korea has been cut out. Expect a lot of that. And Amy might be OOC but...**

**Inspiration: the manga, Rabbit Doubt. A good horror story, I recommend it.**

**I won't write the second chapter until I feel up to it.**

**Somebody nominated _What the Audience Wants, the Audience Gets_ for the Madrigals Awards despite its obvious oddities. That was unexpected, but thank you. (:**

**One more thing: **_tauntingfate . blogspot . com._** It doesn't have much (six sentences as of now) but who knows? I might get a burst of inspiration (ie. circumstance which propels me to rant) and write something decent that people care about.**

**_-_**_Golden_


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